


Pirosky and Tea

by Lazchan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor go back to VIktor's favorite restaurant in Sochi; Yuuri's willing to give the unorthodox staff another chance.





	Pirosky and Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiaronna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiaronna/gifts).



> A short ficlet based on @kiaronna's hc/ficlet with Yuuri beng more savvy than Viktor.

Dimitri looked up when the bell rang over the door, tensing a little as he always did, but when Viktor walked in again, his husband’s arm looped within the circle of his own, he relaxed and hurried forward to greet them.  _ That foreign husband of his took one look at us and knew … I thought we’d never get to see Viktor again.  _

“Viktor! It’s been so long since we’ve seen you.” He pulled him in close for a hug, kissing each cheek before pulling away and smiling and earning that ridiculously big smile in return. He gestured with a subtle signal to the others that  _ Viktor _ was here. 

“Ah, well-- you know that I’m coaching?” he asked, pulling his husband in closer, who just gave him a nervous smile, pushing up the frames of oversized blue frames. “I know that my Yuuri didn’t say much last time he was here; his terrible Russian makes him nervous,” he teased.

Anya came forward and shook her head at the two of them. “He was a silent as a mouse,” she said, hands on her hips. She was their business manager and handled all the accounts, but you wouldn’t be able to tell it with her bright smiles and innocent expressions. “We were worried us scary Russians scared you both away.”

“No, no-- just busy traveling all over,” Viktor reassured them and his husband gave them another faint smile in return, before his gaze flickered around the room. Even if he had guessed what their little restaurant was the base of, he obviously hadn’t said anything to anyone in the law, or else they would be somewhere far away by now and nothing had come down the pipeline warning them of any sort of accusations. 

“This one-- he is a figure skater, too?” Anya gave Viktor’s husband an appraising look. “He looks so different than when he is on the ice.” Her smile was more real when Viktor turned those big blue eyes on her, almost a little shocked at her dismissing words.

“He’s even more beautiful, isn’t he?” he beamed. “Now especially that his hair is growing out and think of the way that we can style it--we were just going to go shopping.” He gave them what he probably thought was a secreting look, no matter that his foreign husband probably couldn’t keep up with the rapid-paced conversation. “He has terrible taste when it comes to formal clothing and since he’s going to win  _ so _ many medals, I have to make sure he shines like the jewel he is.”

“Vitya, stop,” he muttered, cheeks red. He apparently understood enough Russian to get what Viktor was saying, or it was simply the overawed looks that Viktor was bestowing upon him. He turned to Dimitri and held out a hand. “My name is Yuuri Katsuki.” His Russian was slow and careful and Dimitri blinked as he caught the flavor of Moscow accent and wondered just who was teaching him Russian, since Viktor was nothing but St. Petersburg in his vowels. “I’m glad you took care of Vitya before.”

“Ah, but Viktor has been our customer for many many years,” Dimitri beamed, switching to English to communicate with Yuuri easier, no matter how charming the Russian words were. “We were just afraid that we had lost him forever.”

“HIs heart was stolen,” Ivan teased from over in the corner, boxing up the books that had the detailed information of their last piece of business. “He claimed that Katerina’s solyanka could keep him here forever, never to stray.”

“He likes a lot of different food,” Yuuri muttered under his breath, but he looked a little curious at the name of the chowder, turning his gaze up to Viktor, his expression teasing. “Is this Katerina’s food better than my mother’s katusdon?”

“Nothing is better than her katsudon,” VIktor got that sappy look on his face again, arm wrapping around Yuuri and pulling him in close. “I couldn’t keep it away from my side, now could I?”

Another blush deepened the color on Yuuri’s cheeks and Anya laughed as she pulled the two of them over to a table. “You are lost to love, little Viktor,” she patted his head, twenty years his senior and looking barely older than him. “How nice it is to see that smile of yours again.”

Yuuri gave Viktor a curious look as they sat down. There was some chatter from the various tables around the room, but no one came near their small group. “His smile?” That was in Russian again, as if he was determined to either try out his language skills, be a gracious guest or more worrisome, prove a point. “Viktor is always smiling.”

_ He’s sharper than Viktor _ , Dimitri reminded himself, looking into that guileless expression.  _ He’s like Anya, smiling at you with child-bright innocence, while quietly plotting ways to get back at you. _ He didn’t think the young man was as vicious, but the way he pressed closer to Viktor clearly showed that he wasn’t so much as  _ scared _ of them like before, but clearly protective over VIktor. Dimitri couldn’t help but approve; Viktor had been a guest here since he was young, always with beaming smiles and pictures of his dog. 

“Mmm… but he smiled as if the sun had left him,” Dimitri sat across from them and it was clear by his posture that no matter how curious anyone was or wanted to see Viktor Nikiforov up close, he wouldn’t be pleased if they tried. “He still skated beautifully on the ice, but--” he gave an expressive shrug and a sigh. 

“Ah… “ Yuuri turned quiet at that, flicking his gaze up to Viktor, who was too busy chatting with one of the servers that had come up, pulling out his phone and showing her a slew of pictures of--  _ of course, of Yuuri. He switched from Makkachin to Yuuri. _ “He’s going to be skating again,” he offered and  _ his _ real smile came out, brighter and sweeter than Viktor’s. “Isn’t he the best skater?”

That had all heads turning and a few more of the workers came out of the woodwork. All of them here adored Viktor and had since he had first skated out in Junior Worlds when he was fourteen. His candid smiles and words; how he treated everyone that came into his worldview with a camaraderie that crossed all boundaries. This Yuuri - obviously shared that admiration. 

He could be alright-- as long as he didn’t keep Viktor away from them.

Yuuri still looked a little confused, but was relaxing a little more at their easy attitude and Viktor ruined any serious moment by draping himself over Yuuri. “Have you seen my Yuuri skate?” he beamed. “He skates better than I do,” he said easily. “He and Yura both broke my individual world records at the last Grand Prix, although Yuuri needs to work harder,” he poked him in the side, earning a swat and a scowl, “to get my last one.”

The conversation was momentarily interrupted with the pirosky and solyanka that was placed between all of them, with another server putting down glasses, jam, sugar and a steaming pot of tea. Vitya took a hearty bite of the chowder, while Yuuri poured himself a glass of tea, almost obviously avoiding the jam as if it had personally offended him. 

“Don’t eat too much, Yuuri,” Viktor’s smile was warm and teasing as always, after he had taken care of almost half the bowl of food. “We can’t have you being a little piggy before our next competition.” 

There wa a moment of almost frozen silence and the smile on Yuuri’s face only changed a little, but the expression in his eyes belied the easy tone. Even being the hardened criminal that he was, Dimitri shifted a little on his seat.

The tone was as bright and cheerful as Viktor’s had been, as Yuuri poked the top of VIktor’s head. “I won’t, just as you make sure you don’t stress so much that Yuri teases you for losing more hair,” he took a careful bite of the pirosky. “You’ll be competing with Yakov, soon.”

Anya burst out laughing at the look of shock on Viktor’s face as she hugged Yuuri round the shoulders. “I think we'll keep you,” she said. Yuuri looked even more confused and Dimitri grinned to himself.  _ Does he think that we are scary all the time?  _

VIktor pouted over at Katerina, who had come to see what all the fuss was about and to also make sure that Viktor was enjoying her food still, even after being ‘scared away’ from last time. “What is this?” she demanded. “Why is my Viktor looking so sad?” She stared down at Yuuri, who only gave her a bright smile in return and she faltered a little under the force of it. 

“Yuuri here is just showing that he has teeth to bite back when Viktor runs too freely with his words,” Dimitri said, wiping away a tear from his eye. “You remember Yuuri from last time, don’t you, Katya?” he asked. 

“Hmph, the one that was ten minutes short of fleeing because of the big, scary  _ bratva? _ ” She smiled, all teeth and menacing expression. 

“I was trying to protect my unobservant husband,” Yuuri took another bite of the pirosky. “You know, if I wouldn’t feel vaguely guilty for it, I’d say we should bring Yuri along. He’d probably admit that even this pirosky could be as good as his grandfather’s.”

“Are you protecting Yura from them or them from Yura?” VIktor muttered under his breath, but he was grinning as he said it, stirring jam into his tea, his good mood restored as quickly as it had gone away. 

“What do you think?” Yuuri grinned and Dimitri clapped his hands together as he figured out the last piece of what had been confusing him.

“Ah, that’s why you have  _ moskva _ accent,” he beamed. “You are friends with our other young national hero, the little Plisetsky boy.” 

“I’m not sure if he’d call me his  _ friend _ ,” Yuuri turned red and avoided their gazes. “He just said that if I was going to be married to Viktor and living in Russia, I shouldn’t sound like a total idiot.” 

“No, no-- don’t listen to Yuuri. Him and Yura are very close; they bicker and compete like long-lost siblings. It’s very cute to watch.” Viktor gave Yuuri another loving look and while Yuuri was scowling and looking as if he wanted to protest, Viktor snapped a picture of him. 

“... this, I should see,” Dimitri laughed and shook his head. “Maybe one day I’ll have to come and watch this live, yes?” he asked. “Especially now that you are gracing us with one more year of skating.”

“No, no--” VIktor kissed Yuuri’s cheek and absently fed him a piece of pirosky. “You have to watch my Yuuri. He’s been making me wait all year to show me what he can really do.” He scrolled through the videos on his phone, stopping at the last Grand Prix, where Yuuri had won silver. 

Yuuri just shook his head, letting Viktor completely roll over any protests he might have had and instead relaxing further into his seat. He was still wary and cautious and all that was good-- but at least they wouldn’t be without their most unusual patron again. 


End file.
